Monday, November 16, 2009

Irony of Life

Here's something I wrote about two years ago. I'd definitely like to make it into a movie. Maybe I'll ask Dominique to borrow her dad and his car one day...

Two teenagers sat in the back of the car, both in deep thought. The boy stared out the right window while the girl's gaze traveled out of the left. Minutes passed without a word or blink. Sound was a stranger to everything except the gulls overhead and the nearby crashing waves.
Finally the boy spoke: "Think we've wasted any part of our lives?"
The girl turned to make contact with him.
"Yeah, some." she said.
"Yeah, me too. Like all those hours spend playing video games and stuff- I could've been studying or... I don't know, writing a book."
"I started writing a book."
"Why didn't you finish it?"
"Got bored of it. Became more interested in a guy."
"Yeah, girls probably took up a big part of my life. I don't think any of them were even worth it."
There was a long pause and the girl turned once again towards the window. The boy stumbled for words.
"I kind of regret not paying attention to my dog. He died like a year ago," he said. She turned back to him.
"I never had a dog. All the pets we had died in like a month. Fish, gerbils, turtles... all of them. Maybe we were just bad pet owners."
"Nah, I'm sure it wasn't you. Pets like that never live long."
"We went through nine gerbils in two years..." she replied flatly. He raised his eyebrows and they both laughed.
"Wow, we have kind of screwed up a lot. I wish I could go back to parts, you know?"
"Yeah..."
"Hey, I know. Why don't we make a pact? From now on we're going to pay more attention to life; really live it. Time just goes by too quickly to always walk with your head down. We have our whole lives ahead of us, and we only have one shot, so let's make it a good one. What do you say?" He stretched a hand out to the girl. She shook it and smiled.
"Here's to life."

Just then the door opened. A man in uniform took his seat behind the wheel. The girl sat up to talk to him.
"So where are we going?" she asked, her fingers poking through the metal caging.
"Prison of course, now keep it down back there," spoke the cop authoritatively.
They did as they were told, and the car took off down the road...

Thursday, November 12, 2009

Here's a little diddy I wrote just for you!!!!:

As we come to a conclusion of the first decade of the twenty-first century, it seems that all these new gadgets, cell phones, laptops, iPods, etc… have hindered peoples ability to read a book. For this reason, here is a fool-proof process to find a book that is right for you and read it!
First, you must find a book to read. There are two options, they have both been heavily disputed and the outcome is what you would expect, both are good. The first way is to do research on the internet before you go to your local library or book store. This way can save a lot of time and is sometimes cost-efficient as you can compare prices of different stores. To find a book this way you can choose to search different genre’s and read descriptions of books until you find one that is appealing, or you can search authors you’ve heard of; note that this is only for those people who know of a specific book or author that they want to read. The second option is kind of a wild card. This involves going to the book store or library and schmoozing up and down the aisles until you find one that catches your eye. This way can be fun, but a warning, there are tons of books, so once you find about four or five that seem interesting quit, or else you’ll end up buying the whole store out. Some tips for this option, I would recommend looking at the best-seller section, clearance section, and fiction sections. Buying books from the best-sellers list is never a bad choice, and it may help you find an author you like, so you can try option one the next time. Another tip is to not always judge a book by its cover; while you may find ones that look cool be sure to read the brief overview located on the back or inside cover to make sure the book is right for you. One more precaution for this option, do not be afraid by the multitude of books that are available, start small (such as the front displays) and work your way up to the larger sections of books.
Next, you must read the book. While part once may seem fun, the real adventure lies between the front and back cover. For those not acquainted with this form of entertainment, the idea is to open the front cover until you see a page denoted Chapter 1, Introduction, or some sort of prologue. Now you read from left to right (left page, then right page) and run your eyes over each word. The idea is not to fly through these pages, but to comprehend and interpret their meanings. Relaxing your eyes and glancing is NOT recommended because you will lose some of the value stated in the sentence above. Note that you may feel some twinge of emotions as you read a book; it is not something you ate (well most likely not something you ate) and you may be empathizing or some sort of ‘–pathizing’ by the end. You will be shocked at how much fun it can be! Now go out there and buy some books!!


Please disregard spelling and grammar mistakes

Saturday, November 7, 2009

Amber's Autumn Piece

This was the first piece I wrote, a narration of autumn, before we were told it wasn't supposed to be a narration, but enjoy!


I button the very top of my black pea coat as I continue walking down the back road to my house. With my head bowed towards the ground and hands back in my pockets, I shrug my shoulders in hopes to shield my neck from the soft chill of the wind. When I realize my shoe feels a bit loose, I bend down to tie it. The wind gradually picks up allowing my hair to sway in front of my face. I pull the dancing strands clear of my eyes revealing the red leaf caught under my right shoe. It looks frightened, like a mouse trembling under the paw of a cat. Standing up straight again, I allow it to escape. The wind continues to move through my hair and the trees on both sides of me. My eyes follow the leaf, moving up and down, twisting and somersaulting through the air. Mother Nature’s very own gymnast, I think to myself. When the red leaf reaches the other side of the road I can no longer see it among the collage of red, orange, yellow, and brown leaves. I take a deep breath and allow the cool air to cleanse my nose and lungs. The wind dies down and I kick the small pile of leaves lying next to me off the side of the road. I hoped that they would perform for me just like the red leaf had. But my intentions fail and the frozen ground arrests my bliss. My only notion left? These leaves forever remain on the floor. And with that I slay any hint of theatrics remaining. I shake my head in utter disappointment. No true loveliness can come about this season. Because no matter how gorgeously vibrant the red leaf of the oak tree, no matter if that oak leaf danced for you, the return of fall, the loss of color, means loss of chlorophyll, the loss of food, and ultimately, the loss of life. A shiver runs through my spine. Looking away from the pile of leaves on the floor, the purple sky warns me of the time. I check my phone. Five O’clock. I hurriedly continued my walk home, hoping that I might make it in time before the sky stretched to black and trapped me in despair.

Sunday, November 1, 2009

Autumn II

Hurray college english! This really reads like prose, not a story.

Fallen amber crushed beneath running feet, but it forgives. Minds awaken themselves for the coming renewal and they take an anxious breath. Children - us too - quiet themselves just before dusk as the sun glares peacefully beneath clear eyes. Life written in the present tense lives for the future.
We all value our own achievements most now, our determination ready to leap before time runs out and sleep takes over. Second chances begin here, each year, not to be wasted - although naturally some do die with the coming of snow, or just the darkening sense of such.
So we gaze around beautiful, deserted playgrounds.
Even the tourists hush between the long rows of fruited wood, their own eager smiles too pure to speak out. Those same fruits embrace our kitchens to lend us flavor for our tongues and our happy noses. Pleasant, heated aromas sneak about from timid grates and candles forgotten amidst the plainer seasons and a chair - our chair - rocks gently to the winds smooth, simple rhythm.
So we find comfort in a time of dying.
Quick car rides move in slow motion, though we go without spinning wheels. Sunrises last forever. What number of oppurtunities must dart past, alive and vivid to our suddenly seeing senses that we accept the passing of so many? Only joyous faces grip us, friendly hands throw our bodies and a calming October mist spits our way; a smile for every leaf lost, a smirk for a growing challenge on cool ground, next to the drive.
So we dream, too much good and too much undertaken.
Pile it up, pile it up, we've become invincible in our happiness, but still we pursue real goals.
Legs carry us, legs enthrall us; "drunk with love" never appears more literal. Suddenly conversation sparks admiration, hopeful hearts beating with childish excitement in a chest full of memories. Infatutation runs wild, but only for now. Soon a shuttering silence freezes over loving souls, closing out our venerable, open pride. Change stills and that soothing quiet hardens into a veil to protect our worrisome facades.
So we run, drenched in the crisp colors, atop fallen, forgiving amber. I present to you, autumn.

Autumn

I didn't feel like writing this for college english because I thought it was stupid and a waste of time, so I made it depressing!!:

The wind hits my face as I stare out at the colorful trees. Finally, I can sleep comfortably with my windows cracked, no more relying on the air conditioning. The wind picks up and the trees sway under the pressure of the wind, and after so much bending the leaves fly off their thin branches, cluttering the ground. In these large fields the colors make a collage of false inner-meaning (from examples I’ve heard the meaning is only as profound as the person’s capacity for pseudo-meaning). ‘Leafers’ make the trek up to admire this short-lived foliage, and see Hudson Valley’s true (and really only) beauty. Wildlife is scarce except for the squirrels that scamper through the thick layers of leaves looking for the ‘sacred’ acorns, never satisfied, always more to be found.
Journeying up to the tree that a squirrel is situated under I see the life fading out of it. It bared its fruit, and the lively green of the leaves, from the chlorophyll begins to wane. The fruit surrounding this suffering tree begins to rot, not accomplishing their evolutionary goal; to penetrate the soil and germinate. For the apples that are luckier and picked, they become the chief fruit staple in the homes across the area, crisp and sweat, the best around.
Soon this beautiful landscape will seem barren, nothing but the brown of the bark under a white cover of snow. The wildlife will take shelter and the scene will look dead. But, alas, these to fleeting weeks of prismatic color betray the true meaning of this season, autumn. For the tree’s, time slows as it sheds its life, a decrepit frame of a once formidable, lively tree. Just as the leaves fall, summer leaves our homes and our mindset, as we brace for yet another satisfyingly long winter.